


Reverse Therapy

by agt



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Arkham Asylum, Batjokes, Bottom Bruce and Top Bruce, Eventual Sex, Jealous Bruce, Joker uses doctor to make Bruce jealous, Love Triangles, M/M, Seduction, Slow Burn, top joker
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-17 20:14:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14196870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agt/pseuds/agt
Summary: Joker, once again finds himself back in Arkham at the hands of his own beloved Bat. While he works through feelings of abandonment, betrayal and heartache, Joker hatches a scheme for paid back.  Soon, Bruce, Joker and an unsuspecting doctor(Nathaniel Vue) find themselves in the middle of a nasty love triangle.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This will be multiple chapter.

**June 6  2pm- 330pm**

**Gotham City - Arkham**

**Session 3**

Forcing his brain to focus, the sharp, charismatic voice  of the Joker becomes more than just background noise to the doctor.

"Feeling unknown...and you're all alone...Flesh and bone...By the telephone...lift up the receiver...i’ll make you a believer..." There is a constant giggle behind each line Joker recites.

 _“Christ. He's still rambling...Do something. This looks so bad; you were assigned to him because you  know how to handle the violent, unruly, crazy ones_ ,” the doctor thinks to himself as he glances up at his patient; letting his eyes take in his patient, The Joker, in all his glory. Even without his painted red lips or well tailored purple suit the man was a site to behold.

A ghostly figure, tall and slender yet toned and lean with muscle; even restrained to a bolted-down chair, his height was unmistakable. Radiant green eyes burn out from under expressive brows that match his green, lush mane of wild curls piled freely on top of his head. The doctor couldn't help but think that his hair, when wet, could easily tickle the bottom of his jawline. The sides were cut shorter but in need of a trim the doctor noted. His grin was surprisingly large and yes, very intimidating but it was also striking and attractive, perfectly placed between a strong  jaw and pointed nose.

Right away the doctor quickly got pass the initial jolt of seeing his white skin and green hair as anything but normal; even coming to the conclusion that Joker was a very handsome man. Between his charismatic ways and ability to project faux temperaments of his choosing, it was conceivable to understand how people fall prey to him so easy.

Finally, diverting his blue eyes back down to his notepad, the doctor scribbles: _third session, joker still refuses to participate, simply reciting the the lyrics to songs; Depeche Mode still??? Why?_

"Reach out and touch faith." Joker was now reciting the words with a mild melody, "Your own personal Jesus. Someone to hear your prayers."

"Ok. Enough. Absolutely, enough." The doctor says, slamming his pen down, keeping his palm flat on the notepad.

"Oh-ho-ooo-heheee!" Joker’s eyes narrow from the enlargement of his grin.

"Doctor, that's no way to speak to an emotionally fragile patient.Tsk, tsk.” He’s patronizing, “What would the administration say? Do you think they would reprimand you or…” Joker cocks his head sideways and very fauxly gives an shocked expression, “... gasp, terminate you?"

"Naaaa, probably not..” Joker’s sidelong look becomes very candid. “Certainly, not. I mean, after all it is me you're dealing with and I'm a notorious pain in the ass."

There's pride, arrogance, and humor in the self satisfying expression that follows.

The doctor doesn't stop himself from smirking. A spark seems to enite in Joker’s eyes and his grin widens with a soft curl of his nose; he's been incredibly bored since being dragged back to Arkham. Until the opportunity to escape presents itself, keeping his mind occupied is, and has always been,  a dreadfully tedious task in this place.

“Yes, your reputation does seem to proceed you.” The doctor confesses.

An amused snort escapes Joker, “I try my dear Doctor, I really do.” Joker gestures with his hands, if they weren't restained they would be against his chest emphasizing his efforts. “No expense spared.”

“Yes, so it seems.” The doctor relaxes his arm over the armrest, hoping to hide the excitement that’s building from actually having Joker engage him for the first time since his therapy began,  “Reciting lyrics for the past two sessions…”

“Not my best, I will admit.” Joker quickly interrupted.

“I've done better work, heh-hee. I'd love to show you sometime, Doc.” He says very de facto.

Then grins, “Of course, I've done a lot of worse too-oo-oo-oh-he-he-he.”  

The doctor knows Joker is baiting him. Joker wants to be asked about his recent activities; he wants a chance to banter.

“Yes, so it seems. You've busy since being readmitted nearly two months ago. Red dye in the shower heads.”

Joker holds up a finger to correct the doctor, “Cherry kool-aid.”

The doctor continues listing a few of his endeavors around the asylum, “Putting soap into the cafeteria drink supply, releasing rats into the tv room, the community garden has suddenly, up and died…”  The doctor shoots Joker a suspicious glance from over his glasses.

Joker snickers to himself after each incident is listed.

“Also, If I may?”  Again the doctor shoots Joker a look.

“Please do.” Joker says.

“Killing the guard, Nick King, two weeks ago, was that considered entertainment also? Not quite the practical joke like the other stuff on the list.”

Joker was bursting at the seams holding in his laughter. “My dear doctor, if I have to explain the joke...well, where's the fun in that?”

The doctor knows the joke.

“Joker trumps King, yes? That's the joke.” The doctor says.

A satisfied smile fills Joker's face, while he gives the doctor a single nod meant to congratulate.

“You know, Mr. Dent is almost in a catatonic state over his coin’s misplacement; it seems the coin has simply vanished rather suddenly. Where's the joke in that?”

The 'who? me?’ expression Joker gives makes the doctor narrow his eyes prompting a verbal response.

“I. Would. Never.” Joker tries his best to look innocent.

“You have in the past.” The doctor is quick.

“Gasp.” The appalled expression on Joker's face, surprisingly believable except for the fact that it’s the his expression on his face.  “I, for one, find it simply reprehensible. Where's the outrage, the odium? Call the media. Alert the national guard.”

The straight line that the doctor’s lips makes twitches as he fights the urge to smirk at the Joker’s tactics. Smart, funny wit is something the doctor can appreciate.

“Yes, well. If it does just happen to show up, no questions will be asked.” The doctor gives Joker an out and seems to actually have concern for Dent's well-being.

For a moment, the Joker's grin lingers as he ponders; not about the coin, no, he knows exactly where the coin is. Instead he wonders if the doctor's offer is done out of weakness or cleverness. He hopes it's the ladder; the challenge and reward is always greater when his toys have functioning gray matter. On the other hand, the bleeding heart types are also oh-so very entertaining. They fall fast and they fall hard; always so desperate and willing to show just how much they care.

 _Perfect timing,_ Joker thinks as he suddenly remembers where he's left off with his one man lyrical performance. A familiar melody starts to fill the room again, “Someone who cares…oh Doc, Arkham’s own personal Jesus.”

A soft  sigh escaped the doctor's lips. It's slight defeat mixed with aggravation. He reaches up, pushes his reading glasses into his dusty blonde hair and rubs the bridge of his nose. He shouldn't show frustration, he knows that.

"Why Depeche Mode?”

“Why not?”

“You tell me.”

“Nothing to tell.”

The doctor knows it's a game; that somewhere in the lyrics there's another sick joke. In fact, he's actually looked them over, all of them. But he doesn't fully understand how the Joker’s mind works or connects things and for the moment the meaning, the point Joker may or may not have for reciting the lyrics, is lost on him.

He moves on.

“Fair enough. Another battle for another day.” Giving Joker a skeptical sidelong look as he cleans his glasses and replaces them on his face, “I suppose I'll understand soon enough.”

"Ah-ha, smart man! Smart. Man. I figured this much about you…heh-hee...someone who knows how to recognize, wait for and _take a joke_.”

 _Take a joke,_ those words are a threat when spoken by Joker.

The doctor hides his trepidation well. It's surprisingly easy to suppress due to the ardor of having a chance to treat The Joker. The optimist in him feels giddy at the possibility of going down in history as the doctor that helped The Joker. The realistic in him knows it's no more than a mere fantasy. Yet, he's still willing to wade into the waters for the opportunity to explore the greatest criminal mind the world has ever seen.

The doctor looks over his glasses, barely lifting a sheet of paper for Joker to see.

“Ah, the infamous questionnaire.” Joker recognizes it.

A single nod with a soft sigh and the doctor placed the sheet of paper back down in his lap.

Joker smirks at the doctor's obvious lack of enthusiasm.

“I suspect you've been asked these same questions over and over again. And, frankly, they're useless on patient like you.” The doctor flings the piece of paper into the air like a frisbee.

Joker lifts his brow out of surprise; the doctor being so candided with his opinions and beliefs is refreshing. But of course, there's an opportunity here.

“On a patient _like_ me, says you?” Joker simply wants conflict.

“Yes, like you... Intelligent. Wise.”

Joker nodded his head agreeing pridefully.

“Preceptive. Astute.”

By the time the doctor finishes Joker is smugly grinning.

"Aren't you the clever one, Doctor Vue? Flattery will get you all kinds of pleasing and pleasant cooperation... Not from me, of course, but I do enjoy a healthy ego boost from time to time.”

“It's not flattery. One would be a fool to underestimate you, Joker. You are unique but you're also calculating and cunning, which makes you extremely dangerous.”

“Oh, stop it...before you make me blush, Doc. I assume I can call you Doc, you're fine with that, yes?" With a dismissive wave of his restained hand, "Of course you are.”

"Or perhaps, Nathaniel will do..." Joker emphasized each syllable in his name with charm.

"Being on a first name basis seems adequate, appropriate even...after all, we will be getting to know each other very, very...thoroughly."  The predatorial look Joker shoots the doctor causes a chill to run up his spine.

 _Another threat_? Nathaniel makes a note of it.

The list of doctors, nearly endless, who have fallen prey to this dangerous...green-eyed...charmer, flashes through the doctor's mind. Why did he ever agreed to split his time between Arkham and Black Gate? He convinces himself, that if he can deal with the hardened criminals of Black Gate, he can deal with the toughest Arkham has to throw at him. He simply has to keep his wits about him. Push back.

"I highly doubt it would make a difference if I told you that I do, in fact, prefer to be addressed by Doctor Vue? But that's how it works, right? You're going to call me by whatever name you assume will give you the upper hand. A name that you think disarms me.”

"Doctor. Oh-ho-ho-heh. You are _different_ ." Joker leans forward as far as his confinements will allow; not fully smiling but clearly pleased. "I _like_ you…Dr. Nathaniel Vue." His grin blossoming after delivering the doctor's full name.

 _Different? Like?_ The doctor quickly repeats in his mind. _Would it sound too inquisitive, possible inappropriate if i asked what he meant by the phasing…_

Joker sat back, keeping his eyes glued to the doctor, who in returned watched cautiously as Joker begins to adjust his slender frame. Shifting and stretching his body as much as the restrains will allow; wiggling under the leather straps binding his wrists, biceps, chest, thighs and ankles.

It’s clear he's uncomfortable, having to slouch in order to keep the straps from being a constant bother.

The doctor finds himself continuing to stare; lost in a slight daydream watching every squirm and shift the Joker makes until finally the silence is broke.

"You could be a dear and loosen these straps.” Joker snickers, “I promise not to bite..."

Trying to disarm Joker’s weapon of choice, humor, the doctor interrupts by finishing his comment, “Hard?”

It didn't work. It backfires. The attempt to disarm becomes fuel for Joker and his eyebrow liftes with exhilaration at the Doc, "Heh, you know, Doc. Normally, I go for these types of thrills and frills. Tie me up and beat me baby, the harder the better, I say... but this…”

Joker paused, lost in a soft chuckle, “hmm-heh-hm-hm-heh...this is...heh-he...this is just ridiculous. It's like they think I'm going to kill someone. Ah-Hahaha-haha."

His laughter exploded, ripping through the air like a shockwave, leaving an heaviness behind it. Nathaniel felt a chill run up his spine. The experience of hearing Joker’s iconic laugh this close was intimidating.

The laugher continued to echo, bouncing of the walls,making its way into every crack and cranny. Filling any and every person within earshot with dread; even the guards posted outside the doctor's office door cringed. Any more nerve racking, is when it abruptly stopping.

Joker snaps his eyes to the doctor.

"In fact,” he uses a low and seductive voice, “It seems to me that wasting a potentially opportunity like this would a shame.”

More bait. The doctor didn't hesitate to take it.

“What opportunity is that?”

“Why, my dear doctor, me being helpless and you being-”

“You're not helpless.” Nathaniel interrupts.

Joker's smug grin held strong, “Truth be told, you're right, Doc. If I did managed to lure you close enough, I could easily rip that, oh-so tender looking, flesh of yours...right off your throat, heh-he. And I could do it... using nothing more than my bare teeth, mind you.”

Curling his lips back from his teeth, Joker snaps his sharp, white teeth together a few times to make his point.

Nathaniel isn't frightened. Or impressed. Or humored. But he's curious.

“What happens when you kill? What emotions do you experience? Is it sensual, thrilling, satisfying?”

“You’d expect me to say yes, of course, it sets me ablaze...makes my loins quiver but the truth is Doc, I feel nothing when I kill.” Regardless of denying feeling anything when he kills, there's still something so seductive about the way he talks about killing. “I suppose it really depends on the whole ambiance of the situation but even then, my dear doctor...even then it's the quality of the joke, the thrill of the punchline, not the kill, that makes...me...smile…”

This isn't surprising to Nathaniel, in fact, he's pleased to hear it. The profile he's been diligently drawing up on Joker reflects this sentiment. His killings are non-ritual, they seem to fuel his desire to get attention. The more research the doctor does, the more it seems that Joker’s case is truly unique. Unlike most he _does_ have someone to...well, blame...for his condition; his physical and mental transformation is linked to the vigilante known as The Batman. The Batman also seems to be the catalyst that mixes with his distinctive personality and mental instability...and Boom! It causes Joker to go off like a bomb. Of course, it's still just a work in progress, mostly based on what he already knows about to the Joker.

The doctor refocuses his mind but before he can decide on a suitable comeback Joker is speaking again.

“I wouldn't hold it against you, Doc.”

“Hmm? What?” The doctor cringes at his own reaction, it makes him look unprofessional.

He realizes Joker has spoken and he didn't catch all of it.

_Fix it, quickly._

“I'm sorry, I didn't catch that. Hold what against me?” The doctor ask.

Joker laughs knowing the doctor was lost in thought and decides to play mischievous.

“Why my dear doctor, I wouldn't hold it against you if you wanted to rough me up a bit, smack this gorgeous face around. Make me bleed if you want. I certainly deserve it."

The doctor studies him with a complex look on his face as Joker dragges his teeth over his bottom lip before lowering his voice, "You might like it. I certainly would."

"You're not Batman... but in a pinch..." Joker allowes his eyes to trail down over the doctor's body in a very obvious manner; while tickling the tip of his tongue against the corner of his mouth. The Clown's blatant disregard for subtlety suddenly caused Nathaniel to feel uncomfortable for reasons he'd be a shame to admit for the sake of honoring his doctor’s oath; he  didn't want to think about the crimson, that he was sure was, tinting his cheeks at this point.

 _“Focus_ _Nathaniel,”_ echoed in his mind. “ _Its old fashioned manipulation by flirting. Get. A. Grip.”_

The doctor shifted in his chair, uncrossing his legs and then crossing them back in the opposite direction. Joker says nothing, simply smirking playfully and raising a brow in a suspicious sort of manner. A conniving grin starts to form slowly, perhaps his deplorable sojourn in Arkham wasn't going to be abysmal as before.

Batman. It dawned on the doctor. He finally mention Batman.

"Do you realize that's the first time you've used his name in here? Batman."

The B-word suddenly caused Joker's eyes to dilate.

"Really?" Joker sounded and looked appalled.

"That certainly doesn't seem attune to my disposition? Why the Bat, he's my muse, my afflatus, the twinkle in my eye, the get-up in my step. The very thing that makes my heart go pitter patter. No, no. That simply doesn't sound like me."

By the time he finished, Joker was nodding no, turning his head back a forth in a way comedic way.

"Check your notes again, Doc. There's been a mistake."  He humorous tone is immediately gone.

Joker stares off in a daze. No grin. No laughter.

"Joker. Joker?"

The doctor hit a nerve. He quickly makes a note: _what it is about Batman that drives joker to crave is attention?_ _More research needed about Batman._

“Joker!?”

Suddenly, those bright green eyes snaps toward the doctor, hateful narrowing momentarily before forcing a smile.

“You knoooow, Doc. I think we're done for today.”

 

 

 

 

**June 10 - 230am**

**Gotham City -  Arkham - Joker’s Cell**

It's become incredibly quiet, almost erey. The silence in the asylum is how Joker knows that _he's_ here.  It's as if _they_ all can sense his presence. He keeps himself from showing any signs of the excitement he feeling right now; instead, focusing on all the reasons he’s still holding a grudge against him at the moment.

“Don’t bother.” Joker makes sure to sound as hateful as possible.

He doesn’t move, he keeps his arms tucked under his head while laying in his bed.

“Will you at least listen to what I have to say?” Batman asks.

The sound of his voice makes Joker hold his breath. For a moment he forgets all the reasons he's supposed to hate him right now. His heart swell but there's still so much anger _, so_ much resentment and it all comes rushing back like a wave crashing to the shore.

Joker fakes a yawn, “You should leave.” It's cold. Hate radiates from the words.

“Joker.” The Bat tries to step closer, but his already as close as he can be without actually pressing himself against the glass of Joker's cell. “Please.”

Joker can hear the plead in his voice. _He’s desperate; good_ Joker thinks.

Then he purposely rolls onto his side. Putting his back toward the caped vigilante, it's done to annoy.

“Joker, I need you to understand…” There's a small pause while Batman, no Bruce, no both of them try to gather their thoughts.

Truth be told, Joker does understand. Part of him wants to talk, admit that he realizes everything that's gone wrong over the last year. But the other half of him wants to hurts the Bat, make him endure the same pain he’s feeling right now. _Abandoned_ . Right now he hates, well... strongly despises, the Bat for making him feel this way. _Deserted_ . He's got limited emotions and somehow he’s managed to tie them of up on _him_...all of them.

“You’re not yourself right now but soon, once the medicines start to work, start to balance you out. Then you’ll listen. You'll understand why I had to bring you back...again…” Batman wants to make him listen but they've been here before. In time, he will come around, adhere to reasoning, realize how out of control he'd become...again; that ultimately he forced his hand...again.

He doesn't blame Joker for the imbalance in his head anymore. Over the years it's become clear, that J is sick. His mental health is unpredictable but not completely incorrigible.The fluctuation is like day and night, causing him to transform from a harden criminal into a bloodlusting monster. The harden criminal who robs banks, blows up abandoned buildings, transforms fish into grinning little creatures is the same man, that for reasons beyond his comprehension, Bruce loves.

That man, the one Bruce loves, isn't the same barbarian that poisons the water supply of millions, beats young men to death due to jealousy, or kills at random for comedic whims. That _Joker_ is a savage, a merciless nightmare of instability; an erratic side effect of something gone terribly wrong.

“I'm sorry, J.” Batman says it softly. His tone is completely different. He's let his guard down, allowing himself to show vulnerability.

Joker immediately recognizes his emotional openness. This is the man that comes out in the heat of the moment, when they're alone. When it's J and Bruce, not Joker and Batman.

Regardless, silence is the only answer The Batman receives from Joker as he keeps his back turned to him.

 _You betrayed me...again_ Joker thinks.  His eyes narrowed as if he was actually saying this to the Bat. _You lock me up here and expect me to be all grins and giggle when you come to visit. Well, the rules are about to change pal. The days of having your cake and eating it too are over._

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And so the story continues...

**June 12 - 7:24pm**

**Gotham City - Bat Signal**

 

When the first victim showed up at Gotham General, Bruce already knew it was farce to hope that maybe he, Richard Harris, had simply stumbled upon a stockpile of Joker Venom. Perhaps the unsuspecting man had found a cache that Joker kept hidden in the city, thinking it was safe from prying eyes. But as luck goes, this wasn't the case.

The partial police report stated Mr. Harris had been attacked at home, where his oldest son found him and called 911. Batman found that all of the telltale signs of a break-in were missing, it  appeared whoever had used the Joker Venom on Mr Harris had merely walked up, rang the doorbell, dosed him when he answered the door and then...they simply walked away. Obviously, leaving him there, wanting him to be found was part of the plan.

Bruce having left the crime scene, was in route to the morgue when he saw the bat signal illuminate over Gotham. He initial thought was that there was more to the story or something worse had occurred in the last hour; anything was possible in Gotham.

The Bat lurked in the shadows; the habit of observing followed him everywhere and had the tendency to payoff in the long run. For a few moments he watched and waited, seeing only Jim Gordon. Jim leaned against the bat signal and like always, the commissioner appeared on the verge of a nervous breakdown.

“Jim.”  The Bat announces his presents before showing himself.

“Well, I've said it before and I'll continue to say it. I wish we could meet on better terms.”  Jim began the process of putting out cigarette number three and lit cigarette number four.

“Here.” Jim pulls an evidence bag from his coat pocket, “It was left in the victim's pocket.”

He holds it up to show off the joker playing card trapped inside the transparent evidence bag before handing it over to the vigilante.

“Joker.” Bruce growls.

“He left a message.” Jim points out.

The Bat scrutinizes the card, narrowing eyes as he turns it over.

The little bit of uncertainty, or maybe even hope, in Bruce's mind disappears instantly; there is no doubt that Joker is responsible for the recent attack. Bruce knows that shade of red anywhere; more importantly, he knows the shape of the kiss mark located on the back of the joker playing card by heart. Not that he would admit _how_ he knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that this was indeed the Joker’s kiss mark; not that he could pen point the Clown’s kiss out of a lineup if he had to; not that he’d washed that same lipstick stain from his body, christ almighty...from his dick, more times than he could begin to count; no, he'd never admit that.  

“Is he still there?” Bruce's jaw muscle tenses and relaxes repeatedly.

“Yes. He's still in Arkham. That was the first thing I checked. Made the visit myself 45 minutes ago.” Jim was angry, “Nothing but giggles and grins, not saying a single damn word.”

Bruce knows where his next stop will be. Arkham.

Jim continues to share what he knows with the Bat, “The victim doesn't seem to be connected to any type of criminal activity. A law abiding citizen, family man, he was an Elementary School teacher for Christ sake.”

“JIM!” Detective Bullock suddenly appears, out of breath and rushing towards the commissioner and vigilante.

Bruce still dislikes Bullock having access to the Bat Signal but reminds himself he agreed to it for Jim.

“Jim.” Bullock takes a heavy breath, “We got another one. The clown struck again.”

Batman's gut twisted; he _feels_ this is all his fault, somehow, someway, he's to blame. He's sure of it.  

 

 

 

 

 

**June 13  - 3:54am**

**Arkham Asylum - Joker's Cell**

**Number of Victims: 5 and counting**

 

“Call it off. You have the power to stop this.” The frustration was already peaking in the Bat’s voice.

He holds the Clown against the wall; gripping the collar of his orange uniform, balling it up so tightly around his neck that Joker feels the cloth cutting into his skin.

The clown only grins, enjoying the mild pitching pain.

“You have some low life out there running amuck, killing innocent people, all because you have...what? A vendetta? A point to make? Or maybe you're just bored?” Batman says.

Joker is dismissive; producing a casual shrug and faking a yawn, “Boring.”

Batman’s temper flares.

The slamming of Joker’s body against the wall made a muted thump. Joker let's Batss manhandle him freely without consequent; grinning boldly into his face.

“Oh-ooo-ooh-ho-ho.” Joker is patronizing him. Having gotten under the Bat’s wings so proficiently is a delight for him.

 _“Even if the rest of my plan crashes and burns, which it won't, it was worth it just to see you this irritated, my darling.”_ Joker smuggly thinks.

“Relax Batsy-baby, let's talk.” The clown finally offers a solution.

Batss hesitates, his grip tightens on Joker's collar.

“Or, if you like, we can keep it intimate. Either way, you won't hear a complaint out of me.” Joker says, making sure his thigh is firmly in place before rubbing it against Batman's crotch.

Joker’s brow shoots up when he feels a slight erection.

The lecherous look on Joker's face makes Bruce realize that he's actually pushing back; rutting himself against the Clown's body, looking for friction. It certainly wasn't intentional and Bruce is horrified, giving the circumstances, to feel his body's involuntary reaction to Joker’s advances.

“Someone's missed me, I see.” Joker whispers satisfying.

Batman doesn't pull away at first; that would confirm Joker’s statement.

Focus is Bruce's forte, control a very close second. For his body to react in such a way makes him suddenly realize that, despite his best efforts, the division he fought so hard to maintain between Batman/Joker verses Bruce/J no longer exists. Vigilante/villain has blurred with billionaire/clown and as far as Bruce's body is concerned, it's all the same playing field; maybe it had been this whole time; maybe telling himself that the two were separated made him feel less guilty about sleeping with the enemy.

Smug is his grin, “I’ll gladly take care of that if you want.” Joker's eyes cut down toward the Bat's lower half before slowly moving back up to meet his eyes. “We both know how riled up you get when it comes to beating on me.” His smile beams.

“What's a few dead people compared to a great blow job, I say?” Joker says, reaching to unhook Batman's utility belt.

The pop came swift and hard.

Joker blanks out briefly, only a few seconds, not long enough to miss anything. He is already opening his eyes, fully comprehending what is occurring, by the time Batss hits him again. This time he takes it laughing, and by the time Batss has his fist drawn back for a third time, he ducks.  It's done just in time for the Bat’s knuckles to violate the wall of his cell instead of his face.

Joker quickly slips out from under the Bat.

Batss freezes after turning around. The sight of Joker hunched over, holding his sides, lost in a fit of laughter makes his skin crawl and his heart sink. There had been no progress in the past two months; he was looking at The Joker and not J.

Bruce feels defeated and a shamed, knowing no amount of physical violence will produce a suitable outcome. At this point he also knows trying to reasoning with him is out of the question.

Bruce heads toward the cell door.

Bruce knows he will have to try and intervene the old fashioned way; tracking down whoever is helping the Joker and putting an end to this before others get hurt.

“Wait heh-he wait. Batss heh-heh-hee don't heh-he don't go.”  Joker manages to produce a sad face while swallowing back his laughter.

Against his better judgement, Batman stops and turns back around to face Joker.

Joker stands up right, every inch of him stretched upward, towering over the Bat. A charming smile flashes through the blood covering the lower half of his face; the bruising and swelling of his eye, along with his possibly broken nose, is already showing.  The two men eyeballed each other; one waiting on the other to make a move or say something.

It doesn't take long for Joker's smile to turn into a snarl, accompanied with a snarky curl of his nose; the pain in his nose makes him cringe then snicker.

“Careful.” Batman says. It comes out muffled and makes Joker grin.

His movement is quick, cupping The Bat by the neck and moving in for a kiss. The clown doesn't get far. Batman's arms wrap around his waist; with a sudden lift and flip, Joker lays sprawled out on the floor of his cell laughing.

The laughter seems to follow Batman out as he leaves Arkham.

 

 

 

 

**June 13 - 9pm**

**Gotham City - Batcave**

**Number of Victims: 12**

 

Bruce _feels_ like this is his fault.

One by one, victim after victim seemed to randomly pop up all over the city. They appeared to be innocent, law-abiding citizens, just like Mr. Harris; no connection to each other, The Joker or any other crime syndicate. In a twenty-four hour period, twelve people were killed; all due to exposure to Joker Venom; all having a single Joker card, adored with a single red kiss mark on the back of the card, left on their person.

The only exception to the norm was the last victim to be reported. A one, Benjamin Wilburn was dressed up in a cheap rental costume, made to look like Batman. He, like the others, was dosed with a lethal amount of Joker Venom but instead of a joker card in his pocket, the victim was shot through the heart with an arrow.

A simple gag. Something Joker could have easily orchestrated from his cell. The GCPD acted as if finding out how he pulled it off was the single most important thing on top of their list but Bruce knew better. It didn't take a genius to realize that Joker had to have excess to a phone and someone on the inside of Arkham, probably more than one, helping him conduct business as normal.  

Bruce would suggest better monitoring of Joker's rec time and a personnel switch. As for the person or persons helping him, Bruce narrowed his eyes. Well, he would scare their moral compass back to north. Of course, there was the chance that Joker was blackmailing a few of personnel and if that turned out to be the case, and it was a very likely possibility, he would deal with that too.

“Damn, Arkham.” Bruce whispers it with pure contempt.

It was overrun with corruption, perpetrated by staff and inmates alike. Unfortunately, Arkham was the closest thing to a home J had; making it both, the ideal and, at the same time, the worst place for him. Being in familiar surrounds always made his adjustment period smoother. When the meds and therapy started to take hold being in a place he was  accustomed to would help his manic condition come to a less abrupt end. However, his formillailty with Arkham also gave him the upper hand; making the inner workings of the place like second nature to him. If J was going to get the help he needed this time, Bruce would simply have to make sure any and all temptations to carry on like normal were dismantled.

Bruce sighs. If he's honest with himself, part of it was his on selfishness too; he wanted Joker close.  

Chewing his lip, he refocuses his thoughts on the situation at hand; he studies the list of victim's names.

Mr. Richard Harris. School teacher. 42 years old

Mrs. Daisy Fairfax. Retired florist.  69 years old

Mr. Fishel Katz. Notary. 53 years old

Mr. Donald Havisham. Truck Driver. 32 years old.

Mr. Nash Gray. Bartender. 26 years old.

Miss Estella Gibbs. Homemaker. 27 years old.

Miss Ashley Jansson. Student. 17 years old.

Mr. Evan Buchanan. Ex-military. 53 years old.

Mr. Brett Delaney. Landscaper. 34 years old.

Mr. Edward Ellis. Meter maid. 43 years old.

Mr. Dorian Peters. 8 years old.

Mr. Benjamin Wilburn. Real Estate Agent. 34 years old.

There was a connection, a message, a joke that Joker wanted to deliver. Joker was the cryptic writer and the part Bruce played, as always, was that of the decipher.  

One by one Bruce says the names aloud.

“Richard Harris.”

“Daisy FairFax.”

“Fishel Katz.”

“Donald Havisham.”

The name Havisham is familiar. Bruce knows he's heard it before.

“Havisham.” Bruce repeats it softly as he racks his brain for answers.

Nothing.

Bruce moves on to the next name, “Nash Gray.”

No different than the others, no bells ring.

“Estella Gibbs.”

“Estella.”

 _“Why does that sound familiar?”_ He thinks.

 _“Estella Gibbs. Estella.”_ Bruce repeats it a few times in his head.

“Estella Havisham!” The words come out loud the second it clicks, echoing throughout the cave.  

“Pardon me, sir?” Alfred says from across the cave where he's tending to the Batsuit.

Bruce found himself ignoring Alfred and quickly giving the computer instructions to find matching names based on literary characters.

As Bruce lets the computer work, he waits and watches as a list starts to develop:

Estella Havisham from Great Expectations

Brett Ashley from The Sun Also Rises

Richard Katz from Freedom

Daisy Buchanan from The Great Gatsby

Edward Fairfax from Jane Eyre

Dorian Gray from The Picture of Dorian Gray

Bruce has never considered himself a scholar.

“Alfred, what do you make of this list?”  Enlisting Alfred’s knowledge of literature is a smart move.

For a few moments Alfred remains silent. He carefully recalls each character and their story.

“Well sir, each character here is known for being notorious heartbreakers.” Alfred finally offers a opinion about the list.

Immediately, Bruce feels his heart beating in his throat. He knows exactly what the message from J is.

“It appears the Joker is feeling romantic? Perhaps, a message to Miss Quinn, sir?” Alfred suggests.

“Perhaps, they parted on poor terms.” Bruce sounds convincing, at least he thinks so; having known for years that Joker and Harley have never been romantically involved; maybe a couple in the loosest technical sense of the word.

 _“Jesus-Christ. Jesus. Christ.”_ Bruce chastises himself.  He shouldn't have continued to push Joker so hard; he wanted him to communicate how he felt and now he was.

Joker had decided to tell Bruce exactly what he was feeling.  In typically Joker fashion, it was done as a gruesome crime, accomplished with eccentric beauty; killing people whose name correlated with characters of literature. Each victim’s name could be taken, rearranged and combined with another victim’s name to create an character's name. And not just any literary character, but, as Alfred had so candidly put it, _notorious_ _heartbreakers_.

 _“J is...heartbroken and he puts all the blame on you. You broke his heart, Bruce.”_ Bruce's mind and heart is reeling, all the while he's trying to stay focused on what Alfred is saying.

“However, sir, the last name Benjamin Wilburn doesn't seem to match any literary characters.” Alfred adds.

“That one's simple. Benjamin. Wilburn. B. W. Bruce. Wayne. He was dressed in a Batman costume. The Joker’s idea of a joke.” Bruce shouldn't have shared that.

“Sir, that means The Joker has become aware of your identity.” Alfred says, becoming defensive of the family. “Of all our identities.”

“So it would appear.” Bruce tries to show no emotion.

Bruce's gut twist as he lies to Alfred's face. It's not as if he could ever bring himself to say, _“why yes Alfred, Joker knows that I’m Batman. He has for years. It's a threat I was willing to overlook for my own selfishness. In fact, it's even more complicated that you could imagine. He's been in the cave...in the house...in my bed…”_

“Should we worry, sir?” Alfred knows the answer is yes.

Bruce doesn't answer; he's still focused on J and the fact that, now, he _knows_ this was all his fault.

 

 

 

 

**June 13 - 210pm**

**Gotham City - Arkham**

**Session 4**

 

The doctor was late.

The meeting with GCPD and Arkham's Board of Directors was thrown together at the last minute; the topic of discussion, Joker. The normal hoops were being jumped through to ensure the Aylsm couldn't be held responsible for the Joker orchestrating such a vicious attack from inside their walls. Then the GCPD had questions about Joker's daily routine in the asylum, who had access to him...and so on.

“You’re late, you’re late for an very important date said the rabbit.” Joker spoke the moment the doctor enters the office.

Joker’s head was tilted back and turned as far he could get it in order to see the doctor from his restraints.

“Joker. Cool it.” Cash says while standing up in order to greet the doctor.

Joker was quick to reply. “The good doctor is in, you can take your leave Cashy-boy.”

The loud sound of the doctor emptying his arms and dumping his files and notes onto his desk echoed in the room. It seemed to emphasize the look the doctor gave Cash; a look that suggested the meeting had been a real shitshow.

“Heya Doc!” Joker says cheerfully, almost annoyingly so.

The doctor acknowledges Joker with nod and smile, stopping briefly to eyeball the black eye, swollen nose and busted lip he sported. Regardless, Joker wore a charming grin and playfully gleam that somehow managed to make his injuries seem adorable.

“Is that necessary?” The doctor, referring to the straight jacket, askes Cash.

“It’s required, in light of the recent _mischief_ this one's been responsible for.” Cash says.

“We don't know that yet. Innocent till proven guilty, remember?” The doctor says defending his patient.

The doctor doesn't actually believe this himself but after all, it was the right thing to say.

“Oh my, my, my-my-my-my my! ” The amount of self satisfying complacency on Joker's face was undeniable. “Are you two going to have a fuss over little old me?”

The doctor answers Joker with a sharp sidelong look before taking a sit behind his desk.

Then in an obviously dismissive tone to Cash, “Yes. Fine. That'll be all.”

“By-bye, Cashie-boy.” Cheekily, Joker puckered up at Cash, making an smacking noise.

Both, Joker and Nathaniel, waited while Cash exited the office. The guard paused, double-checking Joker's restraints as a way to re-establish his control over the situation. _“Control issues, that one_ ,” the doctor thinks as Cash finishes and moves toward the door.

“Alone... at… last… my dear doctor.” Joker’s words are purposely spoken seductively as he moves his eyes from the door back to the doctor.

Nathaniel quietly studies him for a moment; relaxing back into his office chair, folding his hands behind his head with his elbows poked out. Apart from the obvious issues at hand, he had planned on conducting this session no different than a “normal” one. However, the doctor could already see that this was going to be easier said than done.

Joker was beaming with giddiness. Completely over the moon about, assuming of course, the horrors he had been able to unleash over the past two days. Proud of each and every kill that he deemed necessary to send a message to his darling Batsy.

“So, do you want to talk about it?” Nathaniel finally asked.

“Talk about what?” Joker acts innocent.

“You know what.” The doctor lifts his eyebrow out of amusement.

“Nope, no idea.”

“They wanted to transfer you to Blackgate...again.”

“Yes, yes. They always do.”

“Then it was suggested more Electroshock be administered.”

“Ooh! Brain flossing! I bet that was old Sharpie's suggestion; not one for coming up with original ideas, that one. Drab, uninspiring bag of flesh, I'm afraid. Yuk.” Joker humorously sticking his tongue out and curling his nose with disgusted. The pain of curling his nose made him chuckling.

Nathaniel actually wholeheartedly agreed with Joker's assessment of Sharp.

The doctor allowed a slight smirk to escape, “Well, you're not wrong…”

“Oooh?” Joker’s rounded lips quickly turned into a toothy grin.

“...about Sharp, that is.” Nathaniel quickly added, “Look, here's the _deal…”_

The doctor sat up straight, resting his pointed index  finger into the desk for added effect. _“They_ want to know how you pulled off this little sideshow and who helped you kill 12 people.”

Joker grinned with pride.

“I'm not them and in case I haven't made myself clear, I'm here to help you, not them.  I don't care what they want to know, it's all superficial. What I want to...”

Joker made a point to interrupt, “Pray tell Nathaniel…just _what_ is it that _you_ want to know?”

The doctor tries not to flinch hearing Joker use his name so casually.

“I want to know your incentive, _what_ encourages you…” The doctor pauses and reconsideres, “No, _who_ encourages you to do these things. Who's attention are you pining after?”

The doctor knows the answer. The doctor knows Joker knows that he knows the answer. He simply wants to see if Joker is actually willing to admit he'd done it merely to poke the beast, to antagonize the  Batman.

Joker courteously lifts an eyebrow, “I think you know the answer already.”

“I want you to say it.”

Joker’s expression went sour, “The Batman doesn't deserve The Joker.”

Joker liked the way that sounded, but felt an almost instant urge to clarify, “There certainly was a time that he did...deserve me, that is. And I'm sure there will be again. However, as of late...that winged mormoops doesn't merit the same right to be in the same city as me, nay, the same planet.”

“Alright. Why?” It was a sincere question.

Joker’s eyes are focusing on some distance point in the room; he remains silent.

Nathaniel suddenly gets up from behind the desk and moves to the chair across from Joker, bring his notepad with him.

Joker watches as the doctor moved. His movements suggest confidence, someone who's comfortable in their own skin.  And he has every right to be; the doctor is a handsome man; sporting short dusty blonde hair, blue eyes, a thin but toned frame. But more importantly, he's an intelligent, clever man. Someone Joker could actually benefit from having on his side.

The doctor sits down and leans forward while resting his elbows on his knees. “It's obvious you feel as if Batman has wronged you in some manner and it's also clear that whatever it is, isn't something you feel, or maybe you think, you can talk about it.”

“ _Yes. A smart and perceptive man_.” Joker thinks.

The doctor is bold, “If I may...I think you feel your existence is in question if you don't have the focus of Batman. Perhaps, the same could be suggested for him.”

Joker flashes his green eyes at the doctor, a look of pure disbelief and animosity. Then he forces a smile.

Nathaniel can't help but imagine those beautiful, bright green eyes having some sort of supernatural luminescence when he’s hunting the Bat.

Joker's forced smile becomes genuine.

"I've decided something, Doc. Just now. Maybe I do need an outlet, a safe place to share..."

"And a trusted confidant to share...all those pesky little thoughts that seem to get stuck, linger and bounce around inside the old noggin."

“Alright.” The doctor quickly makes a note: _joker/Batman feed into each other's viability; like a stipulation of their relationship._

The doctor sits back in his chair.

“Then answer me this, did you have those people killed?”

“Yes.”

“And the point?”

“A message.”

“To??”

“Batman, of course.” Joker shoots the doctor a wink, "They say chase your bliss, after all. And we all have our vices: Twizzlers, cheesecake, Batman..."

The doctor's mind immediately goes to the half eaten bag of twizzlers in his desk drawer and then the birthday cheesecake he was given a few days ago from co-workers.  Joker _is_ dangerous; his reach is unlimited. Not only had he been keeping tabs on the doctor but it confirmed that someone in Arkham was working for him. He'd have to let Sharpe know.

 _“Don't let him know it bothers you.”_ The doctor tells himself.

“And this message...What was it?” Nathaniel pushes forward acting as if he didn't catch the meaning behind Joker’s comment...no, threat.

Joker's laugh starts soft and grows, “Heh-heh-hee. Oh doc, heh-haha-ha-ha! You're not ready for that. Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-hahaha-hahahaha-haha.“

“Fine.”  Nathaniel says over the laughter. “Fine!”

Joker’s laughter turns into soft giggles.

“Why don't you tell me when you think I'm ready.” The doctor decides not to push his luck; he'll let Joker have this one.

“But we're going to have to talk about it. And about this too.” Nathaniel gestures toward his own face, indicating curiosity about the story behind Joker’s newly acquired injuries.

“These??? Merely love taps. You see, my darling Bat came for a visit last night...came sneaking and creeping to my cell, tip toeing by the light of the moon, making sure not to wake mom and dad. Heh-hee.”

Nathaniel shifted in the chair, crossing his legs, “Why?”

“Hoping to beat answers out of me, Doc. It's not the first time the Bat’s come a knockin’ for a little one-on-one time with yours truly and it won't be the last.” Joker moves his eyebrows up and down suggesting lewd behavior.

Nathaniel is slightly alarmed; if this is true, it means that a random person, who fancies himself a vigilante, can come and go as he pleases, all the while beating on inmates.

Joker tilts his head and shrugs, “Don't get me wrong, I quite adore his visits. It's the closest thing to a conjugal visit I get in here. Heh.”

Nathaniel listened carefully, unsure whether or not what the Joker is saying should be trusted. He made a quick note: _Batman encroaching on inmates?_

“In all honesty, Doc, between you and me…” Joker stretches his head forward and whispers, “The Bat can't keep his hands off of me.”

Joker sat back, “But you can't blame him, not really. I mean, I'm a handsome fellow. Right?" He relaxed his body, slightly slouching as much as the restraints would allow.

The doctor nods in agreement as a way to keep Joker moving forward.

"You have to admit, Nathaniel...there is a certain allure I possess. I mean, even beaten to a bloody pulp...my boyish good looks, my charming demeanor, my seductive smile..."  Joker flashes the doctor his toothy smile. "...they all lend me a very distinctive, unconventional type of attractiveness, yes? I'm not one to brag...well, hahaha, yes I am...but that's beside the point.”

Joker paused and made sure he had the doctor’s attention, “The point is: I've never had any problems wooing the ladies...or the gentlemen for that matter."

Joker quickly adds, "I prefer the ladder, in case you were wondering."

Joker winked at the doctor, who immediately averted his eyes and began writing _: Freely admits to being gay/bi/pan? Truth or Manipulation tactic?_

"Does that bother you, Doc? Does the idea of me sucking another man's cock, make you un-com-fort-able?" There was amusement in Joker’s voice and a smirk on his face.

For a moment, the doctor continues his notes. Joker tongued the corner of his mouth while maintaining his smug smirk.

Nathaniel looks up from his notes, unfazed by what Joker has said, "Not at all."

Joker was still staring with a smug smirk on his face, “Is that so? A sexually enlightened man, are we?”

The doctor pushed his glasses up on top of his head and gives Joker a most critical, disapproving look.

“Let's not pretend you haven't been digging into my life. I think you said that simply because you know I'm gay.” The doctor says trying to hold his ground against him.

Joker’s expression becomes even more self satisfying; something the doctor didn't think was actually possible.

"It's no secret that you have a habit of digging up information about personnel's private lives. Manipulation, blackmail... It's one of the first things they warn us about working with criminals such as yourself."

"Oh, Doc…” There was soft giggling as Joker slowly rolled his head from side to side, cracking his neck.

“There’s no criminal, or man, like me." The charming manner Joker smiled at Nathaniel made him feel flushed.

"The worse of the worse claim to fame, you know it's quite common." The doctor unknowingly gave Joker an overly flirtatious smile.

"You haaave nooo idea." Joker’s tone oozed sarcasm.

Joker wiggled in his chair, stretching his body as much as he could. Then he relaxed, "So, Doc...wanna know all the dark and dirty secrets I've managed to dig up on you?"

The doctor couldn't help but chuckle as he shook his head slightly, "Alright then, let's hear them. Knock me out with whatcha got.”

The doctor was calling his bluff. Certainly nothing in his past was worth hiding. He'd always been an open book: honest about his sexuality, never committing a crime besides being arrested as a young adult for public intoxication. Hell, the worse thing he'd ever done was sleep with his married college professor and that was water under the bridge now that the professor and his wife were divorced.

It took mere moments before Joker attempted to alter the direction of the conversation.

"Say, have you heard the one about the nocturnal, winged mammal that couldn't keep his hands off a clown?"

"You're diverting." Nathaniel says giving him a sidelong look.

“No, I'm simply going back to address a comment you made earlier.” Joker replies very de facto.

“Which comment?”

“Whether or not I suggested I enjoy the company of men merely to distract you.”

“So did you?”

"Maybe I did. Maybe I didn't. The point is you won't know until you've listened to my tale."

The doctor was not impressed, saying nothing.

“Honestly, it's more of a secret of sorts. A secret that only two people in the whole wide world knows." Joker's smile turned devilish, “Do you want to hear?"

Nathaniel continued to say and do nothing; only making eye contact with Joker.

"I'll assume your silence is a yes." Joker says.

"Now don't write this now. No-no, we can't have that. This is between you and me, Doc."

Joker pushes his head forward, only as far as the restraints will allow.

Speaking softly, in a low tone he confesses, "The Bat and I, we're lovers."

A long sigh escapes the doctor as he rolles his eyes. He shiftes in his chair, crossing his legs. "How am I supposed to take any of this serious?"

"It's true!" Joker's voice pitched higher. "Why wouldn't it be? Makes logical sense if you think about it. The love-hate, push-pull we have. All that raw emotion, all the physical contact… Think about it, when we're fighting it out across the skyline of Gotham; a elbow here, a subtly placed knee there, a hand innocently…”

Joker pauses and gives sly smirk, “...well, maybe not  innocently...brushing a swollen cock that’s double in size over the last few moments..."

The look on Nathaniel's face says it all.

“You really don't believe me. I'm hurt Doc.” Joker sounds sincere.

“Im listening and trying to give you the benefit of the doubt.” Nathaniel says.

The doctor is unwilling to making a judgement call yet. However, he is finding Joker’s story increasingly curious.

“Close your eyes, Doc and imagine yourself in my shoes…”

The doctor doesn't close his eyes but he watches as Joker closes his own eyes.

"A punch turns into a shove turns into a nudge turns into grope and before you realize what's happening you find yourself grinding and rutting against a grow man in a Bat costume; exchanging kisses that borderlines violent aggression and passionate desperation; fondling particularly sensitive areas of the body.”

Joker quickly runs his tongue over his bottom lip before dragging his teeth over it. Lingering briefly, Joker bites down hard on his lip recalling his time with the Bat.

"Granted, there's always a dithyrambic tone to everything the two of you do but this...apprehension and excitement in both of your eyes...but by that point, the little voice in your head that's screaming at you to stop doesn't matter anymore…”

Joker is caught up in the moment, panting hard as he continues, “... there's a yearning that's been building for years and the need to continue this venture far out weights any consequence your conscience can muster up as a viable reason to cease. Impulses takes over, letting your desire dictate what happens next, knowing that deep down you've wanted this for longer than you care to admit..."

The doctor doesn't dare say a word; he's enthralled, allowing Joker to maintain this performance.

But then again, Joker's face says it all too. His eyes are still shut and he is completely consumed, lost in a moment that he's either, dreamt about a thousand times or is simply reliving.  

The doctor suddenly realizes this depiction isn't farce.

“For once _he_ happily gives up control, surrendering it. It's more than expected and you find yourself nervous, timid... scared because you fear the worse; that any moment you'll wake up to find your dream has again gone unfilled. It's not until you take him, mount him that you know...he is yours...nothing will ever be the same.”

At this point, Nathaniel can no longer keep himself from glancing down to the quickly growing erection in Joker's pants. His breathe is still short and heavy, just like Joker.

"And when you finally allow yourself to enjoy what's happening...it's not long before your senses peak. You snap out of that delirious fog of pleasure only to find yourself hilt deep inside a man that you've tried to kill more times than there are ways to die...not to mention, you've blown your load embarrassingly too soon. Heh-heh."

Joker suddenly opens his eyes, making the doctor jump. He's embarrassed to be so transfixed by the madman's words, quickly adjusted himself to hide his own arousal. It was unclear if Joker even noticed; he dons a soft smirk that complements his eyes that are  glazed over with lust.

He immediately continues, sounding mesmerized, "And do you know what it felt like? Heaven.”

Joker and Nathaniel's eye meet.

"Do you know what heaven feels like, Doc?” Joker grins, “Oh, I know you do. You've got that look in your eye and the excitement in your trousers to suggest you know exactly what im talking about."

Nathaniel quickly stands and scrambles behind his desk, discreetly trying to will his excitement away.

" _Simply unprofessional, what is wrong with you!!_ ” Nathaniel scolds himself.

"Nathaniel-Doctor-Doc..." The doctor could hear the seductive giggle in Joker's voice and refused to lift his eyes.

"I wouldn't tell if you wanted to...say, touch yourself.  I do like to watch after all." Joker bit his lip out of amusement.

"That's enough."

The doctor knows he almost fell victim to Joker's manipulations.

"Oh, don't be so uptight, Doc. Just a quick slip of the hand into those well fitting trousers and...well, if you prefer...I’m told I do amazing work with my mouth.” Joker banters.

"Enough!" With a flash the doctor is across the room, jerking open the door with enough force that it nearly slammed itself back shut.

"Get him outta here, Cash!" The doctor orders, walking past Cash and his orderlies. "I'm going on break."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shout out to my wonderful partner-in-batjokes [Mel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/melody1987)! She and I were chatting one night and the line "we all have our vices: Twizzlers, cheesecake, Batman..." was birthed. It ultimately is what made me start on this story.


End file.
